Hork-bajir Homeworld, High orbit, Blade Ship Onslaught, Year 2020.
"Pool Ships, launch all fighters immediately! Battle Group 3 stay in sector M9! Battle Group 6 protect Pool Ships! Faster you fools, faster!" Visser Five screamed at his underlings, who did their best to relay his orders to the mighty fleet who had gathered over the planet.
"Battle Group 4 and 5 support Battle Group 1 and 2 in sector L4! That's where the assault will come from."
"Visser, I'm reading a lot of disturbances in z-space coming our way!"
"So, the andalites and the human drapsen are already here." the Visser spat. "Order all fighters to L4. Wipe out every last one of them!" he bellowed, confident they would be victorious.
In sector L4 a lot of z-space jump points were forming. Seconds later they began pouring out ships by the hundreds, escorted by thousands of fighters. Visser Five's eyes widened in surprise when he looked at his tactical display.
What came out of the jump points were hundreds of light destroyers and thousands of fighters, witch immediately established a defense sphere formation five thousands kilometers in diameter, outside of range of the yeerk vessels. Nothing more happened for the next few seconds after the ships emerged. The yeerks couldn't understand what the Andalite/Human Alliance was up to. The Visser himself didn't know what to make out of it, either. Fighters and light ships in this formation was normally used to protect larger vessels as they jumped in from z-space. But almost three hundred ships and over five thousand fighters was a most impressive force, more likely to be the fleet in its entirety.
Then more jump points started to open, and the first andalite Dome Ships and human Disk Ships started to emerge in the middle of the defensive sphere formation. It took the task force a full ten minutes to complete their emergence from z-space. To the yeerks it seemed as though the torrent of ships would never end. Eight hundred Dome Ships and Disk Ships formed the core of the new attack formation, while the light ships flocked around their periphery with a swarm of fighters in front of them. The colossal fleet began accelerating towards the Hork-bajir Homeworld.
This put the Visser in mind of the largest hammer in the galaxy descending upon him.
Unknown location, Two months later.
The Emperor of the Great Yeerk Empire was furious. And scared half to death. One moment he had been in an emergency meeting with the Council of the Thirteen, discussing the fall of the Hork-bajir Homeworld, the next he had found himself floating in this... place. For a few seconds he thought he was in space, only there was no stars. Everything was just total darkness, and he got the impression that this empty void didn't have an end.
"Where am I?!" he called out.
HAHAHA! An ugly voice sounded in his head. YOUR EMPIRE IS FALLING APART, LITTLE EMPEROR!
"Shut up!" he screamed. "Who are you!? What is this place!?"
DO YOU WANT REVENGE?
"What?"
DO YOU WANT TO SEE THE ANDALITE / HUMAN ALLIANCE DESTROYED?
"Yes! I want to see their homeworlds reduced to smoking ruins! I want every one of them made into a controller and having to suffer for the rest of their life! I want everything they care about burned down to ashes!" the Emperor screamed in reply.
GOOD, GOOD! THEN THIS IS WHAT YOU SHALL DO...
Yeerk Homeworld, High orbit, Blade Ship Devourer, Four months later.
Visser One stood on the command bridge of his Blade Ship, issuing orders left and right. His underlings did almost panic attempts to make them into action. Already a dozen had been executed for not complying fast enough.
They are coming.
He had not been surprised when the first fanatic rapports from the scouts came in: They are coming. They are coming. He had been expecting it for a while. Other Yeerks had allowed themselves to hope. Maybe they would not come. Maybe the war was over. Maybe they were safe.
They weren't safe, they were wrong.
Scouts had detected the coming of a combined andalite / human fleet. A big fleet, far bigger than his own worst fears. They did not stand a chance.
They are coming. They are coming. They are coming.
Those three words kept spinning around in his head, along with the laughter of his host: You will loose, Visser. What is left of your empire will be destroyed today. And I will either die or get rid of you. Either way, I'll be free.
They are coming.
"Visser?"
"What?" They are coming.
"I said the rapport from the last scout has arrived."
"I...Yes. Good. I..." Visser One stopped walking up and down the bridge. "Are the rest of the fleet here yet?" They are coming.
"Thirteen of the Blade Ships, yes. The two others are experiencing engine trouble and will be a little late."
"'A little late?' What do you mean 'a little late'?! I need all the firepower I can get, and you are telling me that our ships will be 'a little late'?! Are you aware that hell itself is about to arrive from zero-space in less than half an hour?!"
They are coming. They are coming.
"Visser, the last two ships has arrived," the hork-bajir controller informed, momentary looking at the dead body of his former superior, who was still lying on the floor. The one who had angered Visser One twenty minutes earlier.
"That was about time! Tell them to get into position."
Why was he bothering doing this? The fleet he had assembled could not hope to withstand the enemy for anything more than ten seconds. Being low on supplies didn't do anything to improve the situation. Recently he had received a message directly from the Council of the Thirteen, telling him to be more economical with the few supplies he had left. He snorted. What was he suppose to tell his troops? 'Use less ammunition'? When full use of every weapon at their disposal was the only thing that slowed the enemy down?
They are coming!
There was nothing left to do. The Yeerk Empire was in ruins. Everything was lost and he knew it. They are coming! THEY ARE COMING!
"Visser, something is coming out of zero-space!" one Hork-Bajir controller reported.
"Raise shields." Visser One ordered automatically, almost in a trance.
Thousands of kilometers away, time and space was ripped apart. Hundreds of jump points connecting this space with z-space formed. For a brief moment one could see the white nothingness of zero-space; then Disk Ships and Dome Ships began pouring out of the jump points.
They are here.
Yeerk Homeworld, Military Command Center, 4 hours later.
The command center down on the surface was in a uproar. Panicked technicians ran in all directions attempting to relay orders to their forces in a desperate and futile attempt to stop the invasion of their homeworld. And in the middle of all this chaos, the commander tried to keep at least a degree of control. Unsuccessfully. The large screens displayed the course of the battle, both in space and on the ground, along with tactical info. And over the speaker system messages sounded faster than anyone could react to them.
"This is Blade Ship Desolator! All decks are on fire! Requesting immediate evac - skraaakk!"
"We have lost all our assets in orbit!"
"Our forces in sector 16 are not responding to hails!"
"The Sulp Niar pool is under heavy bombardment!"
"Our forces are retreating from sector 6 in wild disarray!"
"Free taxxons has gone berserk and are eating yeerks still in the pools!"
"Andalite and human ground troops are slaughtering our forces in sector 2, 9, 6, 14, 13, 18, 5... everywhere! We can not stop them!"
"Move the troops in sector 12 to the Sulp Niar pool!" the commander yelled in response. "Defend the pool at all costs!"
"We just lost contact with them!" a sub-coordinate yelled in return.
The commander cursed. The situation was growing worse by the minute. Then: "Warning! Enemy troops have entered the command center! Enemy troops have entered the - skreee!"
"Okay, that's it. Get the Emperor and the rest of the council out of here." He said to a guard. But where to? He wondered.
"We can't find the Emperor, sir. We have already searched through the entire complex. He is not here."
"What are you talking about? This is the most secure -"
The commander never had a chance to finish the sentence, because just then the blastdoor were blown up, and three plasmagrenades thrown in wiped out all life inside.
The surviving yeerks (barely one third of the pre-war population) officially surrendered a day after the command center was captured. With the yeerks defeated and the Andalite / Human Alliance flourishing, a golden age appeared to be within grasp. However, things are not always what they seem, and new threats are always on the horizon. And beyond time and space, the Crayak chuckled evily. The Yeerk War had only been the warm-up...
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Well, what do you think? Shall I continue writing, or is it just thrash? Review please...